Hanna Barczyk

Pes mou, the driver said to us at the taxi stand, leaning against his car, all bored and beautiful.

They were gathered in a field, six boys, playing a game he didn’t know.

The day she decided to leave her lover, Romina was sitting in a plastic folding chair brought from home and waiting for her mother to be released from emergency services.

An itinerant photographer has set up his camera, lights, and chair in a local grocery store. This was many years ago. I was there, I saw it myself.

Light cut through the darkness that filled the nave, rousing Pastor Kane from sleep.